


Epilogue

by SilverRush (orphan_account), xenode66 (orphan_account)



Series: Worldtree 'Verse [2]
Category: Thor (2011)
Genre: Angst, Creepy Stalker Guy, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-13
Updated: 2012-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-07 15:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/432614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/SilverRush, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/xenode66
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whispered Promises epilogue. This by no means ends the story, but my muse has currently run off and is playing with other things. When I write more (assuming my muse ever comes back to this universe, hopefully it will eventually), it will be posted. I'm currently writing other stories, and this was a good stopping point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Homecoming

Loki stumbled along with his brother hanging off of his shoulder as they made their way through the long palace hallways. Thor and he had emerged from the gateway in his rooms, and the fool had at once begun urging Loki to go to the halls of healing. Not because Thor was hurt, oh no. Of course not, clearly it was Loki that was in trouble as he "seemed to have the notion that he was really a frost giant still stuck in his head." Clearly he needed help that the "foul ensorcelment" that had bespelled him could be lifted.  
  
Unfortunately, Thor actually did need the healers' services, if only to forbid him from leaving his own bed, and it did not seem as though he could make it to the hall on his own. And so, not actually desiring to find his brother passed out in the hallway on the way to the library, Loki escorted him to the healers.  
  
Of course, the minute someone saw them they were recognized. The first person to see them was actually one of the older servants, a maid getting on in years who just stopped and stared at them. The color draining from her face, her posture stiff, it was as though she'd seen a ghost. Or perhaps two. Loki didn't have the heart to disabuse her of that notion (or perhaps that was exactly why he did not so much as speak a reassuring word to her, as her expression was utterly priceless). By this point Thor had begun muttering nonsensically about sorcerors and evil spells and protecting his brother and had apparently not even noticed that the old woman was there. He would have hardly been in the mood to appreciate the occurence in any event.  
  
It was the guards in the main hallway that provided the first proactive reaction to their presence. The first called out to the others in shock and then they all abandoned their posts to rush over to the two princes and huddle around them, staring and asking inane questions while blocking their path. Really they needed to train the palace guards in protocol and manners, not just combat. Not to mention emergency procedures. Two missing princes arrive back at the castle, one of whom is clearly hurt, and what do they do? Why, get in the way of course. If they had been properly trained they might have actually done something productive. Like helped Loki get his great lump of a brother down the hallway and over to the healing wing, so he might be placed under proper medical supervision. They did not even have the presence of mind to send a messanger to the princes' father, let alone their mother. Who would be extremely interested in their sons' return. Not that they really had to, mind you. It seemed that word of their presence in the castle was spreading more quickly than wildfire if the number of warriors, ladies, servants and "off duty" guards peering through their human shield of incompetent morons was anything to go by.  
  
The press and hum of the ever-increasing crowd filling the hallway made it quite impossible to continue on towards their goal, as those pressing in from the back quickly filled the places of any of the people there that actually had the presence of mind to move out of the way. Luckily, the problem was to be short-lived, as a strident "Get out of my way!" rang through the hallway, heralding the arrival of the queen, who was most uncourteously rushing through the crowd that only just managed to escape her path by virtue of the long-ingrained habit they had developed of always making way for her.  
  
As she ducked around a particularly tall, red-bearded warrior, she caught sight of her two wayward sons. "Loki! Thor!" she  
cried out, only hastened in her efforts to reach them. Running the last few steps, she barreled into her two boys, wrapping her arms around them as far as they would go. And though Loki greatly appreciated her show of affection, it did make it rather difficult to hold Thor up. Especially as the cumbersome prince was hardly short of body mass.  
  
After holding them tightly for a short while, she relaxed her hold around them, lifted her red-rimmed eyes to peer up into her younger son's face, and moved her hands first to rest upon Loki shoulders as she began to speak.  
  
"Loki, I thought we had lost you, that you would never return to us, that you could not, even should you so desire. And you Thor! What possessed you to leave, on your own? And jumping off the Bifrost, really what did you think was going to happen?" Turning to her older son, she cupped her hands around his face, turning his nodding head up to look her in the eyes. "Look at you, can you even hear me? Thor? Loki, how is he? When I saw that he was still walking I thought--"  
  
"Mother," Loki said firmly, cutting through her relieved babbling, "I am most glad to see you as well, and truly Thor will recover, but he is yet wounded, and we must make our way to the healing hall quickly, seeing as he can barely stand with my aid. Rest assured, we both are most anxious to continue our discussion, but I truly believe that we can do so after Thor has been seen to."  
  
"Of course, of course, it's just that--you know that I missed you terribly." She whispered, tears of happiness beginning to replace the tears of sorrow that had so recently been shed. "Losing you two...it was breaking my heart."  
  
A pang of sorrow and guilt ran through Loki's chest, sobering the quiet expression of fond happiness that he'd had upon his face from the time he'd first seen his mother running toward them. "And I am sorry for that, Mother. Never did I desire your pain. My own blinded me, and it was not until it had been eased that I could contemplate returning home."  
  
Frigga's expression too turned downard, the radiant joy dimming to sorrow and regret. "It is not only you that had unintentionally caused another pain. Your Father told me of the...conversation you had with him after he awakened from the Odinsleep. But here is not the place to speak of such things. Let us get Thor to the healers, and we must let all of Asgard know of your return, that they too may rejoice over my sons, now restored to me and to our realm."  
  
Smiling back at his Mother, who had motioned for the guards to get over here and start helping her sons, he relinquished his hold on his brother to offer her his arm, which she took ahold of tightly with her own. The relief and joy they felt in each other's presence was only slightly dimmed by the concern they had for Thor. Loki's brother was strong, and while he had been seriously damaged, the combination of his own accelerated healing and Addrjugr's magic greatly improved his condition. He would be alright. They all would.


	2. Revelations

It took some time, after getting Thor settled into his room, where he had the chance to begin to sleep off his many injuries, to relate his experiences in Utanskadr. Frigga was wise enough to just listen, and not to scold or belittle him or his choices. She didn't even start trying to convince him that Adr was a horrible person. She _listened_ as he poured out his feelings, and did not try to disregard what he was saying as lies or exaggerations. Loki felt as though a great dam had burst somewhere inside his chest and a warm flood had come rushing out. It was incredibly refreshing.  
  
When he had come to an end, his Mother began her own tale. Of her husband coming to her one evening, worried for their son, who had found out a great secret that had been kept from him since shortly after his birth. Of how they searched fruitlessly for their son. Of finally discovering that he'd been magicked away to a far off realm that they could neither travel to nor contact, by a stranger that had tried to steal their son by force before. Frigga spun her tale of sleepless nights filled with worry and broken sobs rending the peaceful silence of the palace gardens, of pointless searching and useless research done only because they had no other recourse, no other hope even so very dim and slender of finding and reclaiming their lost son. She told him of the black despair that enveloped her and her husband when their other son was lost to the black depths of Yggdrasil as well, as he did all in his power to regain his lost brother. And in the end, she returned to the lie, first told so very long ago, whose discovery had been the impetus of all the heartbreak and worry that followed in its wake.  
  
"Your Father told me about what happened in the vault. Loki, I know that finding something out like that is not an easy thing. Such a revelation could never be easy. But it did truly break my heart when you ran from us. Especially when you went to someone who could easily have meant you harm."  
  
At that Loki frowned, if not for Adr he would not be in a calm enough state to so much as _discuss_ his heritage. "Mothe--"  
  
"Loki, I know that King Addrjugr has helped you through your fears and concerns. And truly, I can only be grateful that he did. But I also cannot forget that this is also the man who tried twice to take you from us, without anyone's permission. He would take you from us against your will, and against the will of your family. That I cannot forgive. No mother could."  
  
Loki lowered his eyes, sobered by his mother's words, to their hands clasped tightly as they sought reassurance in each other's touch. "And yet I truly believe that I was never in actual danger at any time that I have been near him. Aside from the attempts to...have me as his guest in his own realm, he has only ever shown me kindness and friendship. He is hardly a stranger to me, for I know him better, I have spent more time with him than I have spent with most of the Aesir. He is not evil. When I was small, he came to me at night and was the friend I had always longed for, someone I could talk to who would understand me and why I enjoy the things I do, who could enjoy my interests alongside me. And now--I cannot help but think that, looking back, a friend like that is all he ever wanted as well."  
  
Frigga smiled sadly at her son. Loki had always had a different opinion on the invisible Addrjugr. He truly seemed to rule from the dark corners of Yggdrasil, a shadow king in truth and name. "True as that may be, a mother cannot forgive so easily one that has tried to take her child away from her."  
  
Loki smiled ever so slightly, and somewhat sarcastically back at his mother. "Hmm, my mother cannot bear to be parted from me, " he murmured. "How is that I do not find that to be so terrible a thing?"  
  
Warmth and affection filled Frigga's face as her smile widened. "You were ever a seeker of attention. Should it surprise me that you find it so desirable an occurrence?"  
  
Loki eyes glinted with sly amusement as he replied, "Could I find it anything less than desirable, for such a beautiful woman as yourself to be overcome with sorrow at the mere thought of my absence?"  
  
A delighted laugh bubbled up through Frigga's throat. Radiant with joy, she began to circle around Thor's bed. Loki moved to meet her, embracing her tightly.  
  
"I did miss you, you know. I missed all of you."  
  
His mother stiffened a little at his words, the grief and pain of the preceding weeks recalled once more. "I missed you too, so very much. Truly, we all did, not just Thor, your father, and I. All of Asgard mourned your loss."  
  
Loki clutched his mother a little more tightly in response to her words. "I...would not have thought such a reaction possible, much less likely. While I did not...and do not wish such pain upon you or any other, I cannot say that it was an entirely bad thing for me to have found out in such a manner."  
  
"...found out what?"  
  
Thor peered up at them through eyelids that were still mostly closed, and puffy from sleep. Apparently it was time for his brother to be brought into the conversation as well.  
  
"Thor dear," his mother's smile rang a little false at the prospect of explaining everything to Thor as well. "Loki and I were just talking about how he discovered that your Father and I did adopt him when he was but a babe." Moving around the bed, she sat next to him, as Loki moved around to bracket him on the other side.  
  
Thor's sleep-slowed reactions were quite comical as his face screwed up in confusion. "What? Loki is not adopted."  
  
Loki sighed, he'd already gone over this, with no discernible affect on his brother's stubbornness. "Thor, you really needn't be so dense. I already told you that I am Jotun."  
  
Thor frowned up at his brother. "No, Loki, you are my brother. Look at yourself. Frost giants are blue, and far taller than any Às. And they have red eyes. You are not so."  
  
"Thor, you have seen me take the shape of a wolf, a stag, even that of a cat. My appearance often bears no relation to what I truly am. The form I wear is no different from those others, and is no less false nor true. But my original form is that of a frost giant. I...found out before I left. I was curious about the Casket. Of Ancient Winters. When I touched it....I reverted back to my true form. It was--very distressing, to find out in such a way that I was not who I thought I was, and that I never had been. You cannot even imagine..."  
  
Thor was having enough trouble imagining, let alone believing, that his brother was a frost giant at all. Let alone imaging himself in Loki's place, as he discovered what had to be the most long-lived lie of his entire lifetime.  
  
His Mother leaned in towards him, slipping her hands across the covers to wrap one slender hand around his hand, and the other about one of Loki's. "It is true, Thor, your brother is adopted. And yes, your Father did bring him home from Jotunheim, at the end of the war."  
  
It was now Frigga's turn to be the object of Thor's bewildered gaze. While he could not, would not imagine his life without his brother, neither could he imaging bringing home the child of his enemy, let alone raising it himself. "Why?"  
  
Loki flinched a little at the question. He'd asked himself the same too many times for comfort. Why? Why indeed. Why bring home an enemy, widely known in your own realm as a monster, to be raised alongside your own child? Why keep it a secret, from everyone save your wife, that you had done so? Perhaps the last question was not so difficult to answer. Had it been known the Allfather's actions would have seemed insane, they would even have appeared to be those of a person actively courting disaster. To raise a serpent up unto your own bosom. It was simply asking to be bitten.


	3. Explanations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odin makes an appearance. Words are had. You meet a few new characters. And yes...there is yelling. Kind of a lot, actually.

Loki's bitter train of thought was brought to an abrupt end by his mother's quick rejoinder. "Thor! Would you truly have wished for your father to have left him there? _I_ most certainly did not raise you to be so callous, so cruel."  
  
Thor flushed in embarrassment, and quickly rushed to cover his mistake. "No, no mother! I did not mean that, I merely wanted to know what happened! Of course I would not have had him do else wise! Loki is my brother, and I could never wish for him to be gone. Did I not so prove by retrieving him?"  
  
His mother looked sternly down upon her son, who was only propped up by a few pillows. "True as that may be Thor, and overjoyed as I am that you did bring your brother back to us, your question was very insensitive."  
  
"I am truly sorry mother, Loki, I did not think. I meant no ill." The words merely confirmed what Loki had already known, but hearing them said out loud...it helped. It eased,just a little, his own ache of not knowing, of wondering what reasons his father had for bringing the offspring of their sworn enemies into Asgard, and raising it up as his own.  
  
Upon seeing Loki relax ever so slightly, Frigga continued,"Your apology is accepted, my son. But truly there is...no great secret or adventure that you do not know of, your father found you after the great battle. You had been left behind in the temple, along with the Casket of Ancient Winters. At his touch your skin and hair, your eyes, they all changed hue. And he could not leave you alone to die--"  
  
Voices and hurried footsteps coming from the hallway interrupted their mother's story.  
  
Looking over to the doorway, they see Odin pushing past the guards stationed outside the doorway. Loki had not even realized that they were there. How quickly his privacy and freedom were being taken once more. The fact that it done out of concern for his well-being, to protect him, made little difference.

\------------------

Styrr stood at attention as his King brushed past him into the room that held his wife and children. From the look of his Majesty's clothes, he'd come directly in from the stables. No doubt he had rushed home from his visit to the outlying lords' halls when word had reached him of his sons' return. Near instantaneous communication combined with riding around on the fastest horse in the nine realms certainly had it's perks.  
  
He caught a glimpse of the younger prince's scowling face as his father hurried in to the room to embrace the sons he'd thought lost. Thor's disappearance after Heimdall had located him in the roots of the world tree had been a hard blow, very nearly causing the onset of yet another Odinsleep. As the door swung closed, Styrr's last view was that of the disgruntled young prince, still gazing over his father's shoulder at the guards. Having had the privilege of actually knowing what was going on while Loki was in Utanskadr, Styrr allowed himself a small grin. Oh no, for all that they actually got along well enough with him, Loki was not pleased to see them _at all._ He never had liked having constant guards, and Styrr could honestly not see the situation improving. If anything, young prince Loki was about to find his freedom even further curtailed. All in the name of love and family, of course.  
  
It was not too long after that the low voices inside sharpened in anger and frustrations. The accusing tones rapidly quickened, and soon there was outright yellowing, or bellowing in the case of the Allfather, to be heard.  
  
"YOU LIED TO ME, MY ENTIRE LIFE WAS A LIE!" Clearly Loki was not yet ready to forgive his father, though from their earlier interaction it seemed as though he did not hold his mother at fault.  
  
"HOW ELSE WAS I TO PROTECT YOU? BY LETTING ALL OF ASGARD KNOW THAT ONE OF _MY SONS_ WAS FIRST LAUFEY'S SON? YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN ASSASSINATED WITHIN MONTHS!  
  
It was truly a good thing that there were none in the hallway other than the guards at this time. Still, Styrr look around him, examining each of the other men: Hildrrun, Sigrarr, and Ranulfr. The first two would know better than to spread any rumors. They were completely loyal to the young prince, Styrr had ensured it. But Ranulfr was new to the guard. He hadn't had the time to forge the bonds of loyalty that would ensure his trustworthiness. He would bear watching...perhaps it would even be necessary to ensure his silence, using that most fail-proof of methods.  
  
"DID YOU NOT GIVE ME YOUR WORD THAT YOU WOULD NOT GO WITH HIM?!"  
  
"I PROMISED MY FATHER THAT, AND THEN DISCOVERED THAT YOU WERE NOT! HE WHO BREAKS A PROMISE THAT WAS FALSE TO BEGIN WITH BREAKS NOTHING!"  
  
"Sigrarr, Ranulfr, move to the ends of the hallway until you can no longer hear the words being spoken and prevent any from passing through."  
  
That should take care of the problem for now.  
  
"AND YOU THOR, _JUMPING OFF THE BIFROST_! YOU _CANNOT_ AFFORD SUCH IRRESPONSIBILITY! THROUGH YOUR CARELESSNESS YOU WERE NEARLY LOST, AS WELL AS YOUR BROTHER! HAD YOU THOUGHT AND SOUGHT OUT HELP WE COULD HAVE FOUND YOUR BROTHER _WITHOUT_ RISKING LOSING YOU AS WELL!"  
  
Turning to Hildrrun, he smiled slyly. "Can you think of how else we might ensure the safety of our prince?" he asked.  
  
Hildrrun's dark laughing eyes sparkled back at him. "Why Styrr, whatever could you mean? Have we not fulfilled our rightful duties this day?" he murmured back, slipping his hand into a concealed pocket and pulling out the small vial of holly oil concealed there.  
  
They turned together as one to the doorway, Styrr pulling out a small vial as well, though his was filled with essence of henbane. Carefully, they began to draw patterns and runes of silence and secrecy upon the wooden panels of the door. Though no sorcerer, Hildrrun was quite adept at it. He'd been one of the few both observant enough to notice the young prince placing protections upon his own gear, and one the even scarcer few that was practical enough to ask the same favor be bestowed upon his equipment.  
  
Hildrrun was also a fast learner. While being willing to tolerate the prince's use of magic was essentially a requirement for his guards, there were a select few that were also willing to learn, even if it was only a few useful runes. Which hardly counted as magic, right? It didn't require any actual use of magic, just...drawing skills. But they still tended to be shy about using it around others. Which was perfectly fine, in Styrr's opinion. The less anyone knew about the prince's guards full capabilities the better.  
  
Though not yet complete, the protections were beginning to have an effect upon the volume of the conversation inside. And they had probably begun to calm themselves a little, by this point. Occasionally they could hear Thor or the Queen trying to calm the King and Loki, and it did seem to be working a little. At least they were no longer screaming accusations at each other.  
  
"You could at least have told me. What if we had gone to war, or there was an attack and one of them had touched me? My skin turning blue could have become a fatal distraction, for myself _or_ someone else. Have your yourself not told me numerous times of how one cannot afford to be distracted in battle, that merely a moment's inattention can and most probably will result in one's death? Did you truly think that by handicapping me in such a manner you were _protecting_ me?"  
  
Well, not unreasoning accusation, anyway.  
  
"When you were a child it was not a concern," Odin snapped back. "And it as not as though I had not planned to tell you. I was to tell you upon your coming of age, but that cowardly vámr very nearly succeeded in bespelling you and stealing you from us! But telling you was _delayed,_ NOT FORGOTTEN!"  
  
It seemed the royal family still had much to discuss. Glancing over at the slender, sandy haired guard next to him, Styrr smiled and drew in the last strokes to complete the silencing ward. As the noises from inside the chamber were cut off, the sudden silence filled the hall, chasing out the lingering echoes of the confrontation within.


	4. Line of Descent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finishing off the family's reunion. They've all calmed down a bit. 
> 
> Sorry this took so long. Hopefully it won't take nearly as long for the next installment. For those of you that enjoy twisty plots more than emotional scenes, don't worry. The exciting part is just starting. Thanks for reading.

Loki breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself and regain his composure. While cathartic, screaming at the top of his lungs at Odin did not prevent him from actually hearing what his adoptive father had yelled back. Much as he would like to remain embittered and angry at his family's betrayal (let it never be said that he did not enjoy playing the martyr or that his capacity for vengeance was found to be lacking), his academically-inclined mind could not help but envision the plight Odin's words so...vocally painted. The war with Jotunheim had embittered many of the Aesir, so much so that severe hatred persisted until this day on both sides. He could only imagine the astronomical levels it had to have reached at the end of the war.

 

Of course, the fact that Odin had _tried_ to tell him the truth at least once did help as well.

And despite his worries that his entire life he’d been little more than a trophy, a spoil of war locked away and hidden amongst the treasures of the palace, Loki knew better. His insecurities came primarily from his hurt and confusion; intellectually he understood that he’d always been treated as a Prince of Asgard, as Odin’s son. Perhaps not always in ways that he would have liked, he _was_ different and that had affected how others saw him. But _he_ had chosen what he’d allowed the Aesir see of himself, and they’d responded to only what they could see, as for his other illusions. Yes, the lies had begun with Fa—Odin, who he was not yet ready to completely forgive. But he too had perpetrated his own share of lies about himself.

 

What bothered him was that the foundation that he’d built his own lies off of was not as sure as he’d thought it was. Odin _knew_ that any illusionist, any shape-shifter _needed_ a sure point off of which they could base himself. He _knew_ that anyone with such a fluid worldview and changeable self-image _needed_ to ground himself in some fashion, so he could always make it back to reality. But what happened when reality was not real? They’d been lucky he had not gone mad when the ground beneath him that he’d thought to be so solid was so abruptly crumbled out from under him.

 

When you have a such strong imagination that you can make others lose themselves in it, it is all too easy to become lost in it yourself.

 

Loki closed his eyes as he slowly breathed in, and then out once again. Opening them back up, he looked straight into Odin’s good eye, and quietly continued.

 

“All my life I have been taught that the Jotunn are monsters of the worst sort, beings that have the capacity to reason and feelings to guide and warm them. But that they choose to be filled with hate and violence, eschewing mercy, love and nobility and instead embracing anger, aggression and hate. You know the stories as well as I. You knew that we were instructed that such is their nature. How was I to react, when told that I was a monster whose very nature would lead it to forsake reason and loyalty for treachery and malice? If I am truly doomed to such a fate, why take me in the first place? If not a pawn to be wielded and manipulated at your leisure, was it as a trophy, a prize stolen from your enemies, as have been nearly all the treasures in your vault? Am I as Freyja, a foreigner seen and desired merely because I was Laufey’s son, and therefore forcibly incorporated into your court?”

 

Odin looked down at his son, sorrow and guilt clouding his gaze. How had it all gone so wrong? He’d planned it out so carefully. How could his son not understand, that in the end, all of it had been for his own good? He’d never wanted to hurt Loki.

 

“Loki. Of course you are not merely some prize to be hidden away and gloated over. You are my son. Perhaps I have not always acted wisely, in that I should not have allowed your mind to be poisoned against those who bore you. I was worried. If I were to be seen to champion the Jotunn, and to teach my sons, Princes of Asgard, to look kindly upon them, it would have undermined my position as King, and may have led someone to the discovery of your secret. It has always been clear that you do not physically resemble the other members of our family, and the sudden announcement of your birth, without a prior revelation of your mother’s pregnancy, seemed suspicious to many. Even a false assumption, that you were my son, yet a half-Jotun, or some similar story, could have put you in grave danger. I thought it better to wait until you were grown, and could understand why this would have to be kept a secret. I am sorry my son, but I cannot say that I would have chosen otherwise, should I have to opportunity to alter my past actions.”

 

Of course, Father would never admit to having been wrong. It was always circumstances that were to blame. In the end, his hand was always forced to do these terrible things, and it was always for everyone else’s good, wasn’t it? It was the same story, no matter the argument. Odin, as King of Asgard, could not admit to weakness. As the Allfather, he could not admit to foolishness. And for his pride’s sake he could never admit to being wrong. He had said he was sorry-but not for his own choices. He was sorry that he had allowed someone else to be wrong.

 

Still, any apology on Odin’s part was more than he’d expected. It was a major concession, and it was unlikely to be insincere. The Allfather had always been clever enough to twist any situation to his advantage. Loki had not learned to employ his tongue and wit to his advantage from _Thor_ , after all. For his father to actually lower himself to the point where he would actually say he was _sorry_ meant that Odin likely was regretful, though not necessarily repentant.

 

“I cannot say that I agree with what you have done. I can understand _why_ you chose to act as you have, though it still pains me that you did not believe I was capable of protecting my own secret, or of understanding it, when I was younger. But what pains me the most, what _angers_ me the most, is that you did not do what little you might have done, while still keeping that secret. You let me feel as though I meant little more to you than a prize that might be shown off at will, a prized possession to be kept from others' greedy hands. You allowed me to feel that my presence was more important to you than how I felt. I cannot properly recall the last time I felt like you loved me as a Father would love a son.”

 

“My son--,”

 

“Please, let me finish.”

 

Loki looked down at Thor, and at his mother, both of whom had quieted along with the shouting.

 

“I did not feel that I truly had a family. Or rather, that my family did their duty by me, and perhaps loved me. That did not necessarily mean that they _cared_ for me or to spend their time with me. After all, it is not as though my interests coincide with any of yours, and I often…circumstances have not often permitted me to accompany you out on your adventures, or diplomatic voyages.”

 

Looking sadly down at his elder brother, the prince regretfully continued, “It has always been for one of the reasons that I have been…resentful, or jealous of you Thor. I hated that _you_ were free to go out, and explore the realms, while I had to stay behind these stone walls, only able to look out upon the worlds. All of my exploring had to be done through books. And a second or third hand account of something is never quite the same as experiencing it yourself.”

 

“Whether deliberate or not, I was excluded. And feeling so excluded, it was impossible for me to truly feel that I was an equal part of our family. When I discovered that I was a Jotun, I could not help but think that I was not treated equally because I was a monster.”

“Loki—”

 

“I haven't finished. I understand that you have your reasons for what you did, you always do. And I am at peace with your actions. I have had the time and counsel I needed to come to terms with them. What I am not at terms with are your _reasons._ Because when I needed to know that I could trust you, that what you had done was truly for the best, _I could not_. I did not know why you had made me a part of your family. Or if I was truly _family_ at all, and that it was not all a lie. I could not trust you, or your motives. I will freely admit that I am yet unsure of you. You and mother, and perhaps Heimdall, were the only ones who knew the truth. Both Heimdall and mother are ultimately loyal, and do as you say. Mother may love me, and Heimdall may dislike me, but in the end their actions follow your decisions. And I cannot help but doubt what you would choose, if it came down it. Would you choose me, as my father, or would you merely do what you thought best for your reign? Who are you to me, really? _Tell me_.”

 

“Loki, you are my son. I have only ever desired to keep you safe. You know you are the son of Laufey, do you not? You must suspect me of taking you merely because your lineage might be advantageous. Did it occur to me that you could be an asset? Certainly. You know that such a thought would have crossed my mind. But I did not take you because of it. I have not protected you merely because you have value. When I found you, I could not help but think of my own dear son, and I could not comprehend how any parent could abandon their child. Children are a precious gift. I could not find it in me to discard such a precious gift that had come to me, when abandoned by another. We are given children as fate wills it. Though it was through the blood of war, and not childbirth, you were given to _me_. You are my son, though you are of my blood only through my declaration of it.”

 

Loki breathed in deeply, striving to control the near-invisible trembling that had taken hold of him. “If that be so, then it only remains for you to show me that until I can trust your words for myself.”

 

“Indeed. As we shall relearn to trust you not to run away from those that have only your better interests at heart.” Odin returned, a little stung by his sons distrust.

 

The young prince drew himself up, to coldly reply, “I do not regret my actions.”

 

“I know,” Odin sighed, “and though that you did so pains me, I cannot find it in myself to blame you for it. Though I am immeasurably glad that your brother found a way to reach you and return you to us. It is truly regretful that circumstances are such that to ensure your safety we have of necessity kept you near at hand, under the safety that the palace provides.”

 

Loki immediately glared and opened his mouth to speak. The Allfather quickly continued before another argument could start, or before he could be somehow talked out of taking the measures he knew were necessary to keep his son safe.

 

“Hear me out, my son. I know that you despise remaining inside the palace walls, and detest your lack of privacy. But these…recent events have shown you to be accessible to those who would try to take you from us. You know as well as I that others desire to take you from us, and not just the Shadow King. His interest long ago lit the flame of greed in others’ hearts, and I fear that they will now see you as vulnerable. For the time being, I need you to stay within the palace walls, and to suffer your guards’ company. Let us give you what protection we can, and let us be comforted by your presence.”

 

“My son, I know you are unhappy with what must be done, and I know we yet have much to discuss. But you two have only just returned, and I believe that we are all in need of some time to think things over. But make no mistake, my decision stands. Your safety is important to us Loki, which is one of the reasons I am sure that you will understand that it would be...unwise...to tell others of your heritage. Your mother and I will expect you at dinner. Thor, should you feel well enough you will also attend. It is well that we are once more together as a family. Come along, my dearest. There is much to be done. We have a celebration to plan.”

 

Loki watched, as his father and mother left the room. Certainly his safety was important to his family. He'd always been well-protected. But what of his happiness?

 

* * *

 

 

Loki soon began settling back in at home. At first, whenever he ventured out of the palace whispers and rumors ran before him, remarking on the dark prince and his safe return. How brave of his brother to rescue him from the monstrous ogre that had stolen him away. Kindly matrons would smile at him, burly warrior would clap him on the back and ask for the story of how his brother had come to his rescue, and the vendors in the market would often give him small tokens or sweets while smiling kindly and asking him how he was faring. It reminded of him of the time when Thor and he were yet small, and the son of King Freyr’s ambassador from Alfheim had nearly drowned in the river. He’d been a most annoying child, always whining and moaning about how things were better in Alfheim, the food wasn’t like in Alfheim, the other children weren’t so stupid in Alfheim, he wouldn’t have to do this or sit through that or be so bored in Alfheim. Loki could truly not think of a single person in the palace who would willing tolerate his presence, save for the child’s family. Yet after the boy had managed to fall into the river, from his own clumsiness no less, and had very nearly drowned, it seemed as though the entire palace had become his willing servants. The cooks would check on him to see whether he’d had enough to eat, the maids were always asking if he had enough blankets, and pillows, and would he like them to close the window, it was letting in a draft? In short, the brat had been coddled and smothered in well-wishing until he’d been quite disappointed when his father had been recalled to Alfheim once more. Loki had been quite relieved at his departure, he’d nearly been on the verge of luring him away into the forest in the hope that he’d get lost and be adopted by a wandering clan of nomads, as in the stories he sometimes read. Unfortunately, he’d known that by that point the entire castle would have turned out to search for the poor little lost (weakling) delicate elfling. Loki had not been able to help but hope that he’d quite driven his own home’s inhabitants out of their minds with his tales of how much better it was in _Asgard_.

 

It was ironic really. His grand plan to rid himself of the little nuisance had been to arrange for him to be kidnapped by nomads (who did not exist on Asgard in any event). The plan, aside from being childish, had really turned out to be somewhat (painfully) ironic. He’d wished upon another the very thing which had happened to him, though he knew it not at the time. Admittedly, the King of Asgard hardly qualified as a nomad, but he had, in the end, just been “passing through.” Knowing that he was a Jotun was still…difficult. He did not know if he should ever be able to think of it and not feel betrayed and hurt. At least he he had been able to accept his own reality, though in the end he truly had no other options. He did not have to like it, or remain as such, after all. He could certainly choose his own form, and what he wanted to be was what was important, was it not? The form in which he had been born was merely a starting point. It did not define him in any way.

 

The fact that his mother and Thor really did not care about it helped. It was harder to tell with Father, but at least he seemed sincere. He seemed to be....adjusting…to his new, still mostly secret, status in life. And in the end, what more was it than merely one more secret to keep?

 

 


End file.
